


A Minor Mystery (the midnight snack remix)

by letosatie



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik has Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Worry, m-preg, x-men remix madness 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2149893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letosatie/pseuds/letosatie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Erik is having Charles’ baby and some doubts simultaneously, and Charles willingly shrugs off sleep to attend him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Minor Mystery (the midnight snack remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afrocurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Minor Mystery](https://archiveofourown.org/works/661094) by [afrocurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl). 



“Darling,” said Charles sleepily, “I know you’re awake.” 

“Reading my mind, Charles?” Erik’s dry tone was dissonant against the worry pulsing off him.

“No. But you’re not snoring. Undeniable evidence, I’m afraid.” Charles twisted his head toward the angular outline of the back of Erik’s head and torso, “Do you want to tell me?”

“No, it’s nothing,” said Erik, irritably and then, sulkily, as if it physically hurt to ask, “Is the baby okay?”

Charles placed his hand between the steel stiff shoulder blades. “Absolutely fine,” he said, “sleeping, as you should be, love.”

Erik’s voice was less than a whisper. “I wish I could hear our baby.”

“Erik.” There was no pity in Charles’ exhale of sound. 

They had promised not to pity each other after Moira and the bullet and the months of recovery, when Charles’d cried out furiously, “Your guilt and your pity are not helping me. If you’re going to stay here, you’ll have to give them up and love me how I am.” 

Erik had nodded sharply, agreeing, and added, “Nor me, Charles. No more water-colouring my past, forgiving the men I killed because I had a tortured childhood. You accept me because I did those things, because I let fury make my choices, or not.” 

Now Erik said he was letting love make his choices, although Charles often privately thought Erik was still furious, only now it was translated into furious loving. “Truthfully,” said Charles, “I feel blessed that I can hear the baby, incredibly grateful.” He watched as Erik fidgeted, shifted his feet back and forth. “But also, Erik, don’t laugh now, but I wish I could feel the baby inside me like you do, to know you’ve a separate being cradled inside you… I can’t begin to imagine.”

“Charles?”

“Yes? Oh, I got a bit of that. You’re worried you’ll be left out of private conversations between me and the baby?”

Erik nodded slightly. He was still facing away, his stubble rustled across the pillowcase.

“I’ve been worrying that I won’t be included in activities that require working legs,” Charles confessed. Erik’s hand slid behind him to trickle a finger pad trail, briefly, on Charles’ ribs. Charles captured the long fingers in his square, strong ones and continued, “I played baseball as a boy, and fenced at school. At University, I boxed and played rugby. Thought I’d do all of that with a son, quite apart from the nature rambles and fishing and all of that.”

“Charles,” Erik said, finally rolling over, his face a cliff of jagged shadows and wide, panicked eyes. “What if we have a girl? We’ll know nothing about it.”

“Nonsense,” said Charles, bracingly. “I raised Raven. It was fine.”

Erik raised his eyebrows, and Charles flushed.

“Okay, it was a little uncomfortable when I explained sex and menstruation but I had Henry Gray’s Anatomy, the drawings are very helpful.” Charles’ chin jutted up.

Erik groaned and curled into Charles’ side, and Charles knew then how frightened Erik really was because Erik never ducked his head, liked instead to tuck Charles under his chin, be protection and structural strength. Charles was suddenly and unspeakably honoured. 

“Darling,” he said.

“I’m going to be a terrible father,” Erik said into Charles’ armpit. “What can I possibly teach this child? How to exist on rage when one has no food?”

“Erik, listen to me,” said Charles bringing Erik’s face up to his with his hands, “Even if you couldn’t teach this child five languages, your history and faith, how to swim, chess, how to cook, dozens of other things, even if you couldn’t, all the baby needs is for you to love it and keep it safe. That is all I wanted when I was a boy. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can,” declared Erik with an offended sniff.

“Yes, of course you can. You know love and being treasured by parents better than I.”

Charles kissed him, until Erik's mouth melted open and his thoughts spun heavily into focusing on Charles' nose nudging his cheek and his skin under Erik's palm. “Honestly Erik. I'm not with you just for the ridiculously hot sex, though it is ridiculously hot, it’s because I love all the time we spend together, when you cook for me and try to paint my bathroom burgundy, when I mark papers and you read Ian Fleming; it follows that I’d choose you over anyone to raise a baby with me.”

Erik guided Charles’ middle and index fingers up to his temple and projected the rippling kicks and under water ballet antics of the now wide awake baby, the dislocated sense of something not himself active inside him. 

Charles face lit up and his mouth fell open.

“It’s amazing,” he said, reverently hushed.

“I’ll be sure to share the contractions during labour with you too,” promised Erik, wryly.

“Baby’s hungry again,” said Charles. “Would you like a midnight snack?”

“Yes please. The leftover potatoes with mint sauce and ketchup and butter…” 

Charles swung himself into his chair and his robe around his shoulders.

“… and the soggy onions,” called Erik, as Charles wheeled out the door.

“It will be my honour,” he said, and he meant it.


End file.
